A culpable sort of self-dreading cowardice
March 16th, 2023
There is, for instance, a culpable sort of self-dreading cowardice, not at all uncommon with sensitive people, which shrinks from developing and asserting a just “I” because of the stress of self-feeling — of vanity, uncertainty, and mortification — which is foreseen and shunned — Charles Horton Cooley
That is it. I was searching for a way to describe something about myself for many years — self-searching and self-analyzing but also through the help of a professional therapist. I know several times I was very close to getting the gist of what was on my mind, but I was never able to elegantly dress it up in words. And then — a quote from 101 years ago I found by accident in a book I was reading. I had to reread it several times and with each time my demeanor changed with internal questions — What the hell is it? Does it mean what I think it means? Do I read it correctly? Is it the answer I was searching for? Is that really it? After thinking it over, I was sure — that is a perfect verbal representation of my behavior and my thought process starting from when I was a teen (and just aware of social hierarchy and a need to find my place among people and within society at large) and lasting until about two-and-half years ago. That was lasting behavioral conditioning — about 30 years of my adult life in total. And I had no idea that there is another option to go through life.
I was too sensitive and too aware of others and their emotions and reactions to develop my personality and to be forceful in setting my boundaries and was too timid in achieving my needs and wants. And I let it be the way I operated through my life — always quiet and meek and putting others in front of me. I was too afraid of even the possibility of hurting the feelings of others to be firm about what I wanted and how I wanted things to be. I’ve seen myself only through the eyes of the others — the way they saw me or how I thought they saw me, while I myself was a blank slate. I was a perfect pushover — but at least I was perfect at something. I was also a very good actor — I was playing a role that I didn’t want to, but I was playing it so well that it became a constant cover of my nature and I started to use it as an acquired personality. And then I stopped doing all that. And it happened at the exact same time when I stopped drinking. Of course, I jest here, there is nothing coincidental about it — it was connected and intertwined and directly depending on each other.
I don’t have this problem holding me back ANY MORE — I still might lack some of the feistiness needed in life to make sure to get what I need and want, but I do put myself first and foremost. I am hard at work to shape an “I” want and deserve and like and appreciate. Comes pretty easily and fruitfully.
